


Purgatory

by notthekindwithhalos



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Purgatory
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-23
Updated: 2015-04-23
Packaged: 2018-03-25 10:35:29
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,010
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3807160
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/notthekindwithhalos/pseuds/notthekindwithhalos
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Written a long while back, when purgatory was actually relevant. Oops?</p>
    </blockquote>





	Purgatory

**Author's Note:**

> Written a long while back, when purgatory was actually relevant. Oops?

The first thing Dean became acutely aware of as he opened his eyes was the stabbing pain in his head, followed by a nauseating spin of the world, as if reality were playing a practical joke. He closed his eyes and contemplated just lying there, whatever happened must have been fun last night- he had no recollection of anything. Slowly he rolled onto his side, and his breath hitched as he felt a shooting pain in his side.

Dean opened his eyes for a second time, the bright light burnt his eyes and just before he reflexively closed them again he could see he was lying in some kind of forest, surrounded by dying and decayed vegetation. A voice echoed into existence, the urgency in the words caught Dean’s attention, and summoning a monumental amount of effort and willpower he forced himself to listen.

“Dean? No, Dean, wake up! Dean, please...”

The deep, almost gritty sounding voice triggered a memory in Dean’s thoughts. He knew that voice. He pushed down on his shaking hands, and forced himself into a crouch. His legs almost gave out instantly, and he would have fallen if not for a firm grip on his arm pulling him up. Dean nearly screamed with the agony that was exploding in his side, but he reached his hand out and grasped at the arm supporting him, as if it were a life raft in the middle of a storm.

“Come on Dean, you can do this, we need to get to somewhere safer, before...” the voice coaxed, and supporting most of Dean’s weight, managed to help him blindly stumble forward for a few steps.

Suddenly Dean felt a root entangle itself with his foot, and he pitched forward, bracing himself for the impact with the uneven ground.

The impact never came. Dean felt strong arms wrap around his waist, catching him, and he would have felt safe if it were not for the ball of pain erupting in his ribs. A soft whimper escaped his lips, and immediately the arms tensed.

“Dean, what’s wrong? Dean, say something, speak to me!”

“Sonofabitch” Dean hissed through his clenched jaw, the agony almost unbearable. Abruptly the pain was gone, accompanied by a rushing sound of beating wings and the feeling of feathers softly caressing his side. The pain was replaced by a cooling sensation that slowly spread through his chest, and he welcomed the relief.

Dean slowly opened his eyes, and locked eyes with his companion.

“Cas” he whispered softly, the word a welcome one, a comfort and a security.

“Who else would it be?” The angel simply responded in a quiet voice, keeping a firm grip on Dean’s arm, as if he were still liable to collapse at any time. “We need to move”.

Castiel gently pulled Dean along, and Dean found that so long as he didn’t move too quickly, the world remained fairly steady, begrudgingly obeying the conventional means of up and down. They trudged silently through the dense grey forest for an empty amount of time: here there seemed to be no measure of hours, and the grey light seemed to be stuck at a depressing trickle of illumination that only enhanced the unnatural emptiness of the forest.

Cas stopped abruptly, causing Dean to almost walk into him. Cas tensed and glanced around, before pulling Dean into a dense thicket of moss growing beneath a fallen tree, its roots waiving in the air in a defiant gesture of survival.

“We should be safe here, for a while.” Cas stated, his serious voice breaking the tense silence. Suddenly his shoulders relaxed and he collapsed to the ground.

“Cas?” Dean whispered anxiously, he quickly checked the angel’s body for any signs of injury. “Cas?” he repeated, he choked on the name, fear and desperation causing his body to shake, and lent his hands some urgency as he felt the shorter man’s torso, trying to find evidence of why he had just collapsed.

The angel gasped, and mumbled something incoherently. “Goddammit Cas, what’s wrong?” Dean felt helpless; he had no idea where they were, what had happened, and most importantly what was wrong with Cas.

“I’m sorry, Dean. I can’t... My power, it feels weaker. I need to just... rest. The journey here has somehow... depleted my energy; I used the last of it...”

“...Healing me.” Dean finished for Castiel, he swore, the frustration building up “Where are we? What happened? Why can’t I remember anything?” Dean felt the questions pouring from his lips; suddenly he froze, “Where’s Sam?”

“Dean, what do you remember of what happened?” Castiel’s hoarse voice still managed to convey a sense of urgency. 

“We were...” Dean’s voice trailed off, and he struggled to pull up the memory, “there were the leviathans... and we were... We were fighting them, and Sam was there...” Castiel stared at Dean’s face intently, his face expressionless, and he seemed almost expectant. “We killed Dick? And then he... but that would mean...” Dean’s voice faltered and broke off; he couldn’t bring himself to put a name to the place, as if that would make it more real.

“Purgatory” Cas bluntly finished for him.

“Well, at least it’s not Hell, right?” Dean faked a smile and forced an empty laugh, all the while his head was racing: _where was Sam? How did they get here? How would they get out?_ He turned to his companion, ready to voice his questions, only to see that Cas was now unconscious. “Great.” He tried to fill the unnatural silence with his voice, but it only reflected the emptiness back at him.

Dean began settling down to take watch; although he doubted anything was around, due to the stillness of the forest. Time passed, it could have been minutes or the better part of a day, and Dean found himself becoming more and more restless as the boredom sunk in. He looked at Cas’s body: the unconscious angel had an expression of calm serenity, one that was unfamiliar to the serious angular features of his face.


End file.
